


Blossom

by yakisoba13



Series: Heart Garden [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Related, Falling In Love, Fluff, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Light Angst, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, M/M, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 01:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13625256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yakisoba13/pseuds/yakisoba13
Summary: Loki, a prince of Jotunheim, finds himself at the center of a persistent wooer’s attention when he arrives at the Asgardian court as the first official ambassador for Jotunheim in many, many years.





	Blossom

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to all my friends who supported the making of this fic.

“Announcing Prince Loki, son of Laufey of Jotunheim!” Boomed the loud voice of the herald as a beautiful creature, rarely seen on Asgard, and even rarer still inside the palace, walked through the grand doors into the court. A fair amount of golden trinkets clinked on his hips as he swayed up to the throne dias, bowing to the Allfather and Allmother with all the grace of one who had been raised in a royal household. For the creature lifting its head was none other than the Jewel of Jotunheim, the Silver Tongued Prince Loki himself. Shocking was the contrast of his stark white loincloth, so long and full it was basically a skirt with split sides, and draped shawl against his deep blue skin, and brought out his large ruby eyes, which were observing and seemed to see all. Or so the rumors went.

 

Resting on his brow was a delicate circlet of gold, upon which a short row of four beautiful gilded emeralds sparkled, holding back a heavy head of black, wavy hair. Despite wearing a fair amount of ornaments, the Jotun Prince had managed to state the wealth of his realm without appearing too overly done, for everything was dainty, yet if one looked close, extremely detailed. In his hands, a black velvet box, tied with a red ribbon and fastened in the center with a gold ornament.

 

“Your Majesties,” Loki said, bowing once more as he addressed the two golden figures before him- symbols of grandeur and power. “Please accept this meager gift on behalf of my father, King Laufey. As the first cultural ambassador from Jotunheim to walk these grand halls in many a century, I can only hope to strengthen our realms’ good relations even further by sharing mine own culture, and learning more of yours.”

 

“Well met, Prince Loki.” Odin, the Allfather replied, nodding his head. A century ago, he might’ve rejected the mere idea of an ambassador from Jotunheim with vehement curses and malice dripping from every pore of his body. However, a century softens a man, especially a man with a son who had grown from a beautiful, golden babe to the fine man he was. Except, Odin noted inwardly, that his fine son was absent from the historic event happening.

 

A guard handed the box to the Allmother, who smiled graciously at the Jotun, unwrapping the present. Loki looked on, eager to see their reaction. Gasps filled the room as several, almost too delicate to exist butterflies made from glistening ice floated upwards. Merely a flourish, the Allfather and Allmother watched the beautiful magicked icicles fly around, as did most of the court, until Frigga let out a gasp. Nestled inside the box amongst silk and glistening sapphires, Draupnir shone.

 

“A most magnificent gift, your Highness.” Odin commented, rather pleased with the golden ring, watching as Frigga picked it up, looking on at the runes inscribed on it.

 

“If it pleases the Allfather, it is a gift forged by the dwarves Brokkr and Eitri. As you will soon discover, Draupnir is a gift that will continue to give.” Loki spoke, a small smile on his face. He was pleased, holding out a finger for an icy butterfly to land on. A bang behind him startled the Jotun and the rest of the court, including the herald as the doors opened.

 

“Prince Thor!” Cried the herald, holding onto his heart, as a red cape passed him. Whipping around, Loki caught the eyes of the legendary conqueror and Crown Prince of Asgard. For the golden Prince, who was in a rush, having overslept as a result of returning late from a hunt, everything seemed to move in slow motion. The way the Jotun’s body twisted to look over his shoulder at him, the flapping of the wings on the icy butterfly, the motion of his hair flying behind his head with the movement, and the swaying of his long, voluminous skirts, which revealed a marvelously bare blue leg. It seemed like several eternities had passed in the split second Loki’s hair settled back around his shoulders, and his draped shawl once again hid most of his chest. Thor didn’t realize his father was speaking to him, so lost in the curve of Loki’s neck as the Jotun tilted his beautiful head. Then the living sapphire before him was bowing, and Thor heard his name from the soft lips adorning his azure angel’s face.

 

“It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Prince Thor.” Loki said, jumping back slightly at how close the Crown Prince had gotten to him. Up close, the Jotun could see the ever-present sparks of lightning in the light eyes that stared at him so closely.

 

“The pleasure,” Thor brought Loki’s free hand to his lips, gently kissing the swirled, raised lines on the back of it. “Is all mine, your Highness.”

 

For the Jotun, time had stopped itself, and warmth fell over him. It was a warmth he knew he had felt once before, but the familiarity of it and why escaped him in a flash, the storms within the glittering man before him sucking him in. He’d heard of the Prince, everyone in the nine realms had at one point or another, and while every hero in the realms had mild descriptor of “handsome”, Loki had not expected him to truly _be_ handsome. Besides the clear skin, stormy grey eyes, and well trimmed beard, power emanated from him. It sent electricity through the Jotun’s entire being.  

 

“Well, since you’re so clearly enthralled with our new guest, Thor, you can be the one to give him the official tour.” Odin smirked behind an old, yet powerful hand. Frigga had an equally amused look on her face at how clearly captivated Thor was, and how seemingly struck Loki was, whether it be from bewilderment or from a mutual feeling.

 

“Yes, thank you, dears.” She said to both of them. “We will see you at tonight’s feast.”

 

This prompted Loki to turn back to his new hosts, bowing low, murmuring his appreciation, painfully aware of how Thor was still staring at him, openly almost gawking. The Aesir Prince on the other hand was unsure of how to proceed, finally deciding on offering a rather thick arm (much to Loki’s mentally noted pleasure) to the ambassador. Despite Loki being clearly male, from his broad shoulders, strong stance, to his deep voice, Thor wanted to cradle him so gently, as if he, too, were made of the thin ice the magical butterflies had been crafted from. After a slight hesitation, Loki slipped his arm in Thor’s, nestling quite comfortably up against the large man, only feeling small due to the other’s massive bulk, a fact which he was gleefully reeling over in his mind.

 

“Shall I show you the gardens, your Highness?” Thor asked, as they left the grand hall, already veering them towards the floral paradise his mother had painstakingly cultivated over the centuries.

 

“Oh, please.” Loki hummed. “Call me Loki. And yes, I would love to see the Allmother’s famed gardens, your Highness.”

 

“Then I must insist you call me Thor.’ Thor breathed, the intimacy of Loki’s softer voice nearly knocking him over. In the grand hall, he had projected for all to hear, to show the people of Asgard he had a commanding presence- one that commanded Thor in a completely different way. Their walk was leisurely, and mostly in silence, for neither knew what to say. Once, Loki had looked at the Crown Prince, then turned away, glad a veil of his hair covered most of his violet flushing cheeks upon realizing he was still being stared at. It did not go unnoticed by Thor, whose heart thrummed as the Jotun avoided his glance.

 

“So, you’re the cultural ambassador?” Thor asked, clearing his throat, speaking gently, for he felt all things with Loki should be handled with delicacy and care.

 

“Yes. I am greatly honored.” Loki replied, looking down at their feet, preferring to wait till his face had grown less hot. “I hope to share, and to learn much in return.”

 

Their steps matched, left feet stepping in tune, obviously followed by the right. Next to Loki’s bared feet, Thor marched along in heavy boots, brightly polished, but clearly well-loved. To the Jotun, footwear made no sense, but to the Aesir, no footwear was equally confounding. Yet Thor found the barefootedness almost charming- no, ethereal. He walked as though he stepped on clouds, and the deep berry color that had been painted onto his nails, as well as the nails on his hands, Thor found to be most alluring. It was if the Prince had chosen a neutral color, yet on Asgard, it was so brilliant. Nothing about him was dull- not the way his cobalt skin had lovely lines covering it, in swirls or straight lines, or the way his eyes seemed almost to turn from ruby red to a brilliant fuschia in the rays of sunlight that filtered into the hallways they walked through.

 

“I am looking forward to learning of your home.” Gesturing, Thor ushered Loki through a private passageway to the gardens. Loki’s breath caught in his chest, the sight before him even more than he could’ve imagined. Already, a few of the butterflies he had made and brought as a mere show of magical mastery were floating gracefully, weaving around the plants. Various flowers bloomed, and vines curled around benches, and delicate gates into different sections. Despite the palace residing above any natural source of water, a stream bubbled alongside the garden’s pathway, splitting off and winding around. Frigga seemed to have a disposition for soft colors, although a pop of color here and there was artfully integrated into it. Pink stone made up the benches and pathways, and glistened as water fell from the fountains and small walls that were place periodically. Birds, so many, lived in the gardens, and they were scared of none, freely coming and going as they wished.

 

“Does this please you, Loki?” Thor asked, nearly whispering the Jotun’s name, hushed like a prayer, following behind the starstruck little giant, noting to himself how appropriately Loki seemed to fit into the garden. One as magical as he deserved to be in place of beauty forever. In his mind’s eye, Thor could not imagine Jotunheim being the barren frostland he had heard of, not with such a creature as Loki living there. Surely, the ice and snow must’ve sparkled and glimmered, for what landscape could not be proud of being called the hailing home of the stunning Prince?

 

“This would please anyone blessed enough to be able to see it.” Loki replied, his voice peaceful, so as not to disrupt the soft bubbling of the stream, or the melodious sound of wind shifting leaves against petals. “Forgive me, Thor, but I do not think anything else you show me today will compare. Asgard, for all her beauty in her entirety.... Well her Majesty, your mother has put it all to shame with her work. I can think of nothing else to rival what I see here.”

 

“I can.” Thor whispered so quietly it got lost in the wind. Their walk was a wonderfully calm one, and it helped Thor’s rapid heart rate slow to normal, for it hadn’t since he first laid eyes on the Jotun. His stomach was still full of fluttery feelings, especially when Loki bent over, a hand holding back his hair, the other gently caressing a flower to inhale it’s scent, his eyes closing for a moment as he appreciated it. Surely a man’s heart could only drink in so much wonder before it would burst, Thor thought to himself, his astonishment that such a being could be real keeping him content to just admire the newest and best view in Asgard.

 

Loki stood, and noticed that, just as it had been the entire time, Thor’s eyes followed his every move. Despite his sudden shyness at having become the focal point for the Prince, Loki was also watching him, but he was entirely more discreet. Aesir were rare to him, and Thor was an excellent specimen. He was everything the Aesir were said to be in tales- tall, broad, and _strong_ (the thought of Thor possibly performing feats of strength sent a delicious shiver through Loki’s body).

 

Through lowered lashes, the Jotun watched silently as Thor seemed to drink him in and it was exhilarating.

 

He knew he wasn’t called the Jewel in his home for no good reason- Farbauti’s beauty had shaped him into a lithe, petite giant. While he was a Jotun, he was nowhere near as big as his brothers, and knew such height would never come to him. Despite that, he realized he was one of the taller beings in Asgard- a fact he relished privately. The thick locks that cascaded to his shoulder blades were from his father, yet none would know as Laufey wore a close-cropped hairstyle at all times. Years of training with the sorcerers on Jotunheim had toned his body, for he was taught it needed to be a strong vessel for his magic to flow through. That, and his own personal style, which he had developed over the past century was one that mimicked the styles of old, with the newer additions of some modern trends that had become stylish on Jotunheim. So Loki had created for himself a timeless yet fresh look, something he had a slight idea of, but nowhere knew the full magnitude it had in its impact on others first impressions of him. Simply put, he was enchanting, and several decades of perfecting his outer appearance caused him to become graceful beyond his years.

 

And for the first time in a very, very long time, Loki wondered if his appearance pleased someone else, knowing if Thor had any other preferences, he would immediately conform to them- something he would’ve never done under normal circumstances.

 

But with the way Thor watched him, Loki realized he was holding his face in a softer expression, letting his skirts part to show his legs, all the more to make him more appealing to the Crown Prince. Again, something he would’ve never done before. By the norns did it confuse him, the new compulsions he was having to be pleasing, and why Thor, of all, was captivated by him when the man himself was a captivating presence in his own right.

 

It seemed as if the sun had been made for Thor, to catch every glint of gold the Crown Prince seemed to naturally have engrained. His smile was kind, and Loki was no stranger to the concept of gentle giants- his brothers doted upon him, doubled in his size as they were. Beneath the flex of those powerful muscles, Thor was clearly agile. He saw it in the way the man moved aside when Loki saw a new flower to smell, the way he had somehow been able to regain himself after clearly being startled and enamored by Loki. With the way he smiled with ease, oh, the Jotun was sure his heart would jump out of his throat.

  


The afternoon was spent in the garden, exchanging blushing looks, and by the time they had left, Loki had entirely forgotten there was another world outside of the one he and Thor had frolicked in for nearly three hours.

 

“Thank you, Thor. That was truly special.” Said the Jotun, grateful to be inside the cool halls. Arm in arm, Thor was leading him around again, showing him the library, the rooms where ambassadors met with the Allfather or Allmother, and visiting a balcony Thor claimed had the best view of the whole of Asgard from the palace.

 

“I will take you anywhere, anytime, Loki.” Thor promised, his hand coming up to cover the icy one that held onto his arm. Leaning closer, Loki felt sheltered, Thor’s broad shoulders made even broader by the hardware attaching his cape to his formal court wear, the red cloth swirling around, hitting the back of Loki’s calf as they walked. It was an awfully intimate feeling. Quickly, the Jotun was beginning to realize the environment between them was going to be so, and it unsettled him only from not having such closeness. Jotunheim, icy as it was, also held a certain degree of coldness in her culture and customs. When Loki had left the freezing realm earlier that day, Laufey had hugged him for the first time in a few decades. It was more shocking than wanted- physical touch was only done when deemed necessary and more often than not, it was deemed to be a luxury. However, Thor seemed to want to keep a hand on him at all times. Whether this was a result of the Aesir culture, or Thor’s own inclination, the Jotun knew not.

 

He had so much to learn

* * *

 

The feast was splendid, and Loki had certainly made an entrance, dressed in a fiery red set, which had gold embroidery and beading all over it. Once upon a time, Thor would’ve found such a look to be overtly feminine, but that time was left in the past from the moment he had first laid eyes on Loki. When the Jotun had opened his door to Thor’s knock, the Aesir arriving to escort him, the Crown Prince forgot how to breathe. Loki had pulled up half of his hair, gathered into a loose braid, a few strands around his face framing it, and a matching circlet of rubies replaced the emerald one from before. No additional ornamentation was needed, as Thor took in the details, his throat closing as he noticed the slits on Loki’s skirts were placed higher on his hips, purposefully showing off the fronts of his strong legs. Who needed to breathe anyways?

 

At the table, Loki was seated across from the Crown Prince, next to two of the Warrior’s Three, Hogun and Fandral. Frigga was seated next to her husband, unable to stop the amused look she had worn since she saw her son’s reaction to the Jotun earlier the day. Lady Sif sat next to Thor on his left, and an impressively large warrior, Volstagg sat next to her.

 

“You are trained to fight.” Hogun said gruffly to Loki, the first words he had spoken that evening (or possibly the entire day- he was a man of _very_ few words). “With daggers, yes?”

 

“Why, yes.” Loki answered, genuinely surprised, then noticed Hogun was looking at the movement of his wrists. Part of his training had ensured it would be the most artful and graceful way of fighting- this was actually at his father’s insistence.

 

“Then you must allow me to challenge you in the warrior’s ring.” Hogun said, nodding to himself in approval.

 

“Oh, I am not that talen-” Loki began to object, shyly tossing a glance over to Thor, who was just openly staring at him.

 

Sif noticed her buffoon of a best friend was drooling more over the Jotun than his own plate of food. She picked up her skirt under the table, lest it get in her way, and swiftly delivered a sharp kick to the back of Thor’s calf.

 

“You’d best drool into your cup, _now_. You’ll scare the poor ambassador.” She hissed, mostly in amusement. Never before had she or any seen the man so quiet.

 

“Nonsense-” Fandral coughed, distracting everyone from the yelp Thor let out. “You must go into the ring with Hogun. Rarely does he ever find anyone who can match him in combat. Besides, it will do him some to get knocked down in the ring.”

 

The look the entire table gave Loki was enough for him to know it was an invitation rarely offered, and quite possibly rarely accepted. Thor gave him a small smile, which was enough encouragement.

 

“I do believe I will disappoint, but I do accept your invitation.” He finally acquiesced. Volstagg let out a hearty laugh and Fandral shared a look with Sif over the way Thor couldn’t seem to contain himself in his ardor. Honestly, it was just as adorable as it was bewildering. Sure, the Crown Prince had his moments of passion, but they never started out like the one he had for Loki, and never did it seem he was content with merely looking. It was as if Thor was looking at another being for the first time.

 

“Why daggers?” Sif inquired, nudging Thor again, who obediently took a mere five second break from staring at the ambassador to look at his plate of food, which he had little interest in.

 

“Our priests are trained to defend themselves, and our faith- quite literally.” Loki explained. “My father insisted I, too, was trained. My elder brothers are much larger and can wield heavier weapons, and as I am not of the same stature, training with them was out of the question. The head priest took me under his tutelage.”

 

Many heads nodded in thought. Thor was staring in wonder at his little giant again, this time questions forming in his mind.

 

“Now, I can hold my own.” Loki finished, taking a sip of his wine. “But I still fear I will not be up to the caliber you expect, Lord Hogun.”

 

Again, there were objections all around, even one from Odin who was rather proud to have Hogun under his service, although he knew it was more of a loyalty to Thor that kept the talented man there.

 

The feast ended well into the night, and Thor only had to get kicked in the shin a few more times by Sif. Thor was walking Loki back to his rooms, feigning fear that Loki would get lost as he was still new to the palace. Linked by the arms again, and by their hips, Thor took Loki on a roundabout walk, wishing desperately he didn’t have to seperate from the lovely creature by his side.

 

“You look so lovely.” Thor dared to comment, instantly happy he did for Loki flushed violet, and due to the way his matching shawl was draped over his chest and held in place with a strap, leaving most of his midriff and nearly his entire back exposed, he could see just how far the blush traveled. The colors suited him so well, especially the blush, Thor thought to himself, pleased.

 

“Thank you, Thor.” Loki said quietly, looking away again, mentally kicking himself for how quick the Aesir could make him blush. Perhaps it was the warmer climate that caused his blood to rush- it couldn’t be the Prince next to him that was causing _everything_. “You’ve been so kind to me today.”

 

The Aesir’s chest visibly swelled with pride, happy to have made Loki happy.

 

“Truly, it was my pleasure.” He said, then sadly accepted their walk had to come to an end, for they arrived at the door’s of the royal guest suite Loki was to occupy for the foreseeable future. “Shall I accompany you tomorrow, as well?”

 

“Well, I do think I need someone to show me to the training ring.” Loki giggled, mostly because the look of pleading was so apparent on the blond’s face, and it was so adorable.

 

“Oh, you agreed to that tomorrow?” Thor was surprised, and an overwhelming urge to say it couldn’t happen because the thought of Loki even being any danger scared him.

 

“Yes, I thought you knew...” Loki raised a brow. “You nodded when we confirmed it.”

 

Then both of them realized Thor had only been merely staring at Loki during the feast, lost in the glamour of the Jotun. Loki couldn’t help blushing again, confused once more as to why.

 

“O-oh- no, yes, of course. I did know that.” Thor tried to cover, more awkwardly than he intended. “I did know that.”

 

With a graceful incline of his head, Loki bid the Crown Prince goodnight, slipping into his rooms through a crack in the door, shutting it, and then leaned back against it, exhaling a deep sigh. All of his anxiety fluttered away, and he closed his eyes, wishing he didn’t have to part from Thor- not then nor ever.

 

Moving past several of his best outfits, which he had frantically thrown about, looking for the perfect ensemble, his magic lifted them and folded the clothes, carefully storing them. With a practiced wave, Loki’s outfit was lifted from him, and his sleeping shirt was draped over his body, leaving a scandalous portion of his legs bared. Funnily enough, it was probably the most clothing he had ever worn in his entire life, and it was at night.

 

Sitting at the boudoir next to the bed, Loki ran a brush through his hair, smiling to himself as he remembered a point in their evening stroll when Thor had tucked a piece of it behind his ear. With warmth filling his entire being, Loki crawled into the massive bed, dreaming of golden lightning and beautiful flowers.

* * *

 

In his princely suite, Thor was rolling around on his bed, messing up his well-made bed and having no remorse for it.

 

He was in love!

* * *

 

Thor was taken aback by the Loki he saw emerge from the Jotun’s chambers in the morning. His hair was bound back into a braid with a slim leather band circling his head, and he had on leather bracers on his calves and forearms, with the slightest bit of silver metal plating. The usual draped shawl was replaced by what looked like a chest plate, which peeked out from behind a wrapped piece of cloth, which was lengthy enough to cover him, down to mid thigh, otherwise baring his slender legs. The leather and cloth was a shade darker than the Jotun’s skin, and the metal choice of silver changed the way Loki seemed to shimmer entirely. He looked like he was a warrior of the moon, Thor thought.

 

“Good morning, Thor.” Loki greeted, equally impressed by the sleeveless attire Thor wore. His muscles seemed like they would bulge from his body with the slightest movement, and when Loki saw how Thor adjusted his grip on the legendary Mjölnir, he saw he was right by the way they rippled. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Yes, yes I did.” Thor answered, still taking in how lovely and fierce his sapphire was before him. “Did you?”

 

Loki took the arm offered to him in earnest, his other hand moving up to rest a hand on Thor’s bicep. Appreciating the cold touch, Thor flexed a bit, noting how Loki’s breath hitched in delight. The Jotun nodded in response, already so breathless so early in the day.

* * *

 

The ring was quiet. Multitudes of nobles and warriors had come to watch- the nobles for entertainment, and the warriors to study what the Jotun could bring in terms of fighting. The idea that Jotunheim’s priests were trained to fight was an intriguing concept, and many wanted to see if it was serious. Well, it had to be because Hogun was involved in this match.

 

“No lethal hits, don't step out of the ring!” Volstagg’s voice boomed from the sides, sitting with Thor, Sif, and Fandral. “No magic and the match will be over with the first to yield.”

 

Loki dipped into a defensive stance, and a dagger appeared in each hand as he thrust his arms down. Thor felt a shiver go through him as he literally watched Loki transform from the wide eyed ambassador to a slinking lethal being, red eyes narrowed, almost glowing. Hogun’s face was cemented in place, but even he lifted a brow when Loki opened his lips to bare his teeth and hiss.

 

“That's smart.” Sif commented beside Thor. “Unsettling, isn't it?”

 

“If that doesn't throw Hogun off, I'm sure your little prince has more tricks to use.” Fandral commented, but Thor couldn't hear. This side was even more exciting- he wanted to get into the ring and face off with the Jotun himself seeing the sudden change. It made the blood roar in his ears and his body was ready to battle.

 

For a moment, nothing happened, and then Hogun moved slightly to his left, baiting Loki, who only kept his eyes on the warrior, the air around him deadly. It seemed to the warrior’s companions that even Hogun was unsure for a moment, but the shining slice of a dagger through the air let them all know he was not taking the challenge lightly. Surprise rippled across the crowd as Loki sprung back, flipping over onto one hand and landing crouched, before he leapt back towards Hogun, twisting in midair when another stroke of Hogun’s dagger came at him. His own, were made of enchanted ice, and sparkled so ferociously in the sun, mirroring their owner- beautiful, but incredibly dangerous.

 

Landing to the side of the warrior, the Jotun stuck his leg out, providing a tripping point when Hogun stepped back. The warrior lost his balance for less than a second, regaining it with a pivot that spun him around, bringing a dagger into the ground which previously had been inhabited by the Jotun, who rolled away.

 

“He's fast.” Sif said, leaning forward, brows knitted in concentration. “And he isn't afraid to use the floor to his advantage. Hogun isn't used to this.”

 

True to Sif’s observations, Loki was spread out close to the ground, using his impressive body control to keep himself low.

 

“He must've developed this on his own. There is no way a frost giant could get low to the ground and keep up. This is his own technique.” Thor commented, eyes trained solely on Loki. Said Jotun hissed again, backing away to the edge of the circle, Hogun trying to push him out. A burst of power from his thighs allowed him to leap over the warrior, clearing a massively tall space. Thor recognized the Jotun had trained himself to be able to leap over the heads of frost giants of average height- meaning Loki had to also know several other skills they wouldn't get to witness out in an open ring. “Amazing.”

 

Hogun began to adapt as best as he could, engaging in a flurry of stabs, which Loki avoided, parrying with his own equally fast attacks. With a quick slice, Hogun drew deep blue blood from the side of Loki’s left thigh. The crowd gasped, and Hogun even paused. In the space of that breath, Loki reached down, and gathered his blood on a finger. Thor held his breath, then exhaled it in wonder as Loki dragged it down the center of his bottom lip and chin. With curiosity, Thor wondered if some of the lines on Loki’s body were actually thick scars earned with the prowess of his training. The display was a shocking one- while none of the warriors were unused to blood, the sapphire color and the self application implied Loki was more than just “trained”- he had killed and could do it again. And for those old enough to have fought in the war between Asgard and Jotunheim, long slept memories of towering Jotun’s with deep blue stripes across their faces awoke. All knew Loki was too young to have been a fighter, but it still made some of even the fiercest warriors in the stands shiver.

 

Hogun’s arm shot out again, the black blade of his dagger glinting dangerously as he again moved to cut Loki’s leg. Loki pivoted, and caught Hogun’s arm in the crook of his own, quickly giving the warrior a thin slice of his own on the back of his hand before dropping it and retreating backwards. The warrior’s eyebrows were now furrowed as he concentrated, and he paused again. Loki mirrored him.

 

“ _Fight me._ ” He hissed, not realizing he had slipped into Jotun, uttering the phrase he had screamed at the priest’s when they were too scared to attack the small giant. Despite none knowing what he had said, the command came across as the stands rippled with excitement. Hogun flipped the dagger he was holding in his right hand, regaining his footing as he and Loki charged simultaneously at each other. Loki flew low, using his light clothing to the advantage of being more flexible, wrapping a leg around Hogun’s outer leg, then used the momentum to swing himself around, arm around the warrior’s neck, dagger tip gently pressing into the side. His back leg supported them from collapsing and just as he was going to demand the man to yield, he felt the cool tip of a dagger pressing into his side gently. Despite his agility and being fast, Loki hadn't subdued the warrior properly. After a moment, he stood, taking care to allow Hogun up as well.

 

“I yield.” He announced, bowing low to the warrior.

 

“Let a healer attend your cut.” Hogun said. “It was a worthy challenge you presented me with.”

 

“No, I will allow time to heal as she wishes. Let it be a reminder I have much to learn.” Loki said, bowing once more. “If you will, Lord Hogun, spare time to spar with me, for you are clearly the next step in my training.”

 

Hogun bowed his head, accepting the Prince’s graceful yield, and replied he would spare any time he had. Thor had jumped over the barrier, along with his friends, all chattering excitedly.

 

“A brilliant show of skill!” Fandral congratulated both. “Your Highness must show us more of those amazing acrobatics. At one point it seemed you were intending to leave the earth and fly.”

 

“I'll bet you can climb expertly.” Sif commented.

 

“Oh, no. I mean, yes I can climb, but not well.” Loki blushed, his daggers melting out of his hands and dripping into the ground. Thor watched as a pearl of blue blood dropped into the wetted ground.

 

“Your Highness can no longer claim modesty in his skills.” Volstagg said cheerfully, then clapped Thor heavily on the shoulder. “Shall we show everyone a true feat of brute strength since the Prince Ambassador and Hogun showed us the graceful side of the art of fighting?”

 

Thor was about to object when he saw Loki’s eyes slide over his exposed arms, and the overwhelming desire to show off for his navy angel caused him to say yes. With the others safely settled back into the seating around the ring, Loki nestled snugly between Sif and Fandral, the two giant men began to wrestle. It was a much more lively fight in that the crowds were cheering for their favorite warrior. The nobles shouted for Thor, of course, and the warriors bellowed at Volstagg to take the delicate prince down. Loki found himself cheering for both, being no stranger to wrestling contests. It was often a formal entertainment between the noble families to show their strength to the royal family. Being rowdy was expected.

 

Soon Thor had Volstagg pinned, roaring jestfully for him to give up.

 

“Yield, old man!” Thor laughed as he pulled Volstagg’s arm further behind him. The red giant yielded with a grunt, easily picking Thor up once they got off the ground, embracing his good friend. “Oh, Volstagg, I can't breathe.”

 

The warriors groaned as Thor was named triumphant, but it was all in good fun.

 

“Another day, one of you might best your delicate princling.” Thor teased them. Loki wandered towards him, after he had told Volstagg how much the fight had thrilled him. “I heard your voice calling my name.”

 

Loki blushed, wiping a smudge of dirt from Thor’s neck away.

 

“To be fair, I was cheering for whoever was winning in the moment.” Loki confessed, squirming slightly when Thor took the hand and brought it to his lips.

 

“Well, when you did call my name, I found I had more strength.” Thor said against the soft skin. “Thank you.”

 

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see his friends sneaking away and swear he heard “let's leave the lovers alone, yes?” come from Fandral, but was too wrapped up in Loki to really care. Norns, the Prince looked good even covered in dirt, and the dried blue stripe of blood on his face made him all the more alluring.

 

“I was merely participating.” Loki replied, another bout of violet blushing crossing his face, resting on the tops his cheekbones and across the bridge of his nose. “My voice alone couldn't give you more strength.”

 

“Ah, but it did.” Thor objected, kissing the hand once more, before letting it go. In his head, he called Loki his sweet blossom, for the flush bloomed like a flower and Thor could feel his heart skip a beat. “You were stunning.”

 

At this Loki looked away, a smile gracing his face. He cradled his freshly kissed hand to his chest, deciding in that moment that he didn't mind being overcome with warm feelings whenever Thor complimented him. If anyone ever asked, Loki was sure he would answer that he preferred it. Thor wanted to gather the Jotun up in his arms, and kiss his face all over again and again, but too many eyes were watching them. So he once again held out an arm to escort the Jotun away, for they both agreed washing up would suit them just fine.

* * *

 

After he had dropped Loki off at his suites, Thor jogged down the halls, hoping his mother was in her study and thanked the norns she was.

 

“Dear, what brings you to my study?” She asked, embracing her sweaty son with no issue. Love abound for Thor grew in her heart daily, and witnessing him falling madly in love tickled her pink.

 

“Mother, please teach me how to make flowers. I-I I need to learn.” Thor requested, catching his breath, kneeling at his mother's feet in pleading.

 

“Oh? Flowers? For a certain someone?” She teased, patting his shoulder apologetically when her son groaned at her. “I can't teach you how to make something living.”

 

“That's fine- I just want it to be beautiful and to last forever, in the heat or in the cold.” Thor said quickly, taking the seat next to his mother. “And I want to learn it as fast as I can.”

 

Frigga chuckled, so pleased at how adorable her otherwise tough son could be. She stroked his cheek, thanking the norns she was blessed to be his mother and that the passionate fire of love had lit Thor’s heart.

 

“Well you are lucky-” She said, rolling up her sleeves. “The magic you wish to master is a quick one.”

* * *

 

The flower Thor had thrust into his hands before disappearing around a corner, cape fluttering, then disappearing like its owner, was extremely beautiful. The petals were slim, and curved down, curling under at the very tips. The middle was a violet color, that transformed into a purple so dark it was almost blue as the colors reached the outer edges. The stamen were delicate, wispy strands of gold that twisted out beautifully. Loki stood in the entrance of his suite doors, inhaling the soft scent that emanated from the flower, unable to help the smile on his face, biting his lips as he felt his entire body essentially turn the same shade of purple, happiness rushing throughout him.

 

From a corner, Thor peeked out, watching the Jotun’s reaction, pride causing his chest to swell as he saw that beautiful smile on his stunning angel. It had taken him two hours to make the flower, something his mother told him would take less and less time as he improved. When she instructed him on how to direct his magic to introduce color, she asked what color the flower should be. Thor couldn't think of anything else beside the way Loki looked so lovely with a blush across his cheeks, and his magic flowed out, coloring the flower most exquisitely. It was a true flower version of the Jotun who Thor referred to as his blossom in his thoughts.

 

Loki looked into the hallway again, but couldn't find Thor. So he retreated back into his rooms, gently touching the petals of his special flower, delight overwhelming him.

* * *

 

That night, Thor and Loki had elected to go for a moonlit walk in the gardens, and he couldn't stop looking at him. Loki had chosen purple attire, a royal purple, with a skirt that slit up and parted on one side, showing off the cut he had received in the match from the morning. Gold bands decorated his wrists and biceps, while another piece of purple cloth was merely draped loosely around his shoulders, fastened with a golden pin that looked like a pair of curved horns, the rest of the scarf trailing behind him. Thor couldn't help staring at the bared chest, his torso all the more enticing by the slim golden chain that wrapped around his waist, with a strand going up the middle of his chest, and circling his neck. He positively glowed with the moon.

 

“Again, my Prince, you are lovely to look upon tonight.” Thor commented, then his heart caught in his chest when Loki’s head ducked as a result of the compliment. The Jotun had pulled half of his hair back like the previous night, but Thor hadn't seen, just underneath the plain gold circlet, that Loki had placed the flower he'd made him into the braid, a few other dainty golden pieces accentuating it. Not that Thor had minded, but it made sense why no jewels adorned the circlet.

 

He stopped them, turning to face Loki, taking a slim elbow in each hand, gazing with no shame upon the sapphire before him. The Aesir thought he could cry from happiness- realizing Loki had dressed the way he had because of the gift he had received. Truly, he thought for the thousandth time, there had to be a limit to what a man's heart could stand with the swelling of overflowing love. Again, the beautiful gardens around them, famed for being wonders of the nine realms, had nothing to offer up when compared against the Jotun Prince in his arms.

 

“Thor?” Loki’s whisper, so softly cutting through his thoughts, caused Thor to pull him close, an arm going around his waist, and his other hand coming behind his neck. Rubies stared into storms, which intensified in the Crown Prince’s eyes as he brought the other close to him, painfully aware of how those icy blue hands had come up to rest on his chest.

 

Loki had never had anyone hold him in such a way, but he leaned into it, allowing Thor to tighten his hold on him. When Thor’s thumb stroked his cheek, the Jotun couldn't help closing his eyes. The Aesir closed the short distance between their lips, kissing him so gently, so softly. Instinctively, he knew this was Loki’s first kiss, and it was all the more sweeter for it.

 

Loki’s eyes fluttered open when Thor drew back, still keeping him close. Despite his anxiety earlier, his heart had stopped trying to jump out of his throat, leaving him with a calm sense of self, and a comfort in being held by the Aesir. Then Thor kissed him again, just as soft, just as gentle. More prepared, Loki kissed him back, shivering despite there being no wind on the usual balmy night. Separating only their lips, Loki looked into Thor’s eyes, and was suddenly scared. He saw himself reflected in those stormy orbs, and all the promises that Thor had made him, unspoken in their kisses.

 

“I feel faint.” He whispered, goosebumps forming over his body as he whispered it against Thor’s soft lips, the hairs from his beard lightly tickling his face. The Aesir, kissed him lightly again, then held his hand out, summoning Mjölnir, still holding onto Loki’s waist.

 

“Hold onto me.” Thor said, swinging the hammer rapidly, then throwing it up, holding its handle tightly. As they flew through the air, Loki, slightly terrified, looked over his shoulder, over to the still lit downtown area of Asgard, then up at the stars, and then at Thor, who's tight grip around his waist held him tightly against his chest. The wind was rushing around them, and Loki relaxed, enjoying the way it felt on his skin. They landed on the personal balcony leading to Loki’s room, Thor holding the Jotun up for a mere second so he could absorb all the shock from the landing.

 

When his feet touched the cool stone of the balcony, Loki unwound himself from Thor, and reached up to fix his hair, which had whipped around in their flight. But he was more shocked than relieved.

 

His flower was gone.

 

“Thor, my flower!” He gasped, rushing to the edge of the balcony, leaning over to see if he could see it at all. Heart pounding and terror washed over him as he realized he wasn't sure where it could have fallen. The wind had whipped around them so strongly, he hadn't felt it loosen from its place. Turning around, he could feel desperate tears well in his eyes. The Crown Prince was momentarily struck by how pretty Loki managed to look, his eyes gleaming with tears.

 

“I'll find it.” He promised, ready to take off. Pausing, he stroked Loki’s cheek, promising once more he would find it, then swung Mjölnir and set out on his quest.

* * *

 

It was a few hours later, after searching in the pathways and dirt all along their flight course that Thor came upon the flower. It was sitting on the ground, in the exact place in the garden where they had taken off from. No damage had been done to it. Thor couldn't help smiling in equal amounts of relief and disbelief, at which the flower seemed to twinkle innocently.

 

He landed again on the balcony and saw the double doors were open, the curtains swaying gently in the wind. Loki was laying on his side on the couch in the seating area, dried tears on his cheeks. Thor wished to move him to the bed, but the Jotun was sleeping so soundly, he hadn't the heart to disturb it in any way. Pulling over a throw blanket, he covered his sapphire, then set the flower down on the table in front of the couch, lest it get crushed by an unknowing shift in sleep. He stayed for a moment longer, then moved a piece of hair from Loki’s face, content at looking at the wonder sleeping peacefully before him.

 

“Rest well, blossom.” He whispered, kissing Loki’s cheek, then departed via the balcony, heart alight with love.

* * *

 

The following months brought on many pleasures. A few days into Loki’s stay, the effects of Draupnir became apparent, eight beautiful rings of equal weight and size dripped from the ring which Odin had worn, clattering over the table during a feast. The Jotun explained every nine days, the ring would repeat the pattern, dripping eight equal rings. This pleased the Allfather so much he had the initial first ring drops melted down and caused them to gild a magical scrying mirror, so that the ambassador could view on his home whenever he pleased. It became one of Loki’s prized possessions, something he shared with Thor, as well as Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. Thor got to see the royal family, with Loki careful to show his brothers and father only during the time the public would be allowed to view them. To the others, he showed them how the Jotuns fought, but said he could not share the trainings of the priests- their magic with which Loki had been bound upon first entering under their tutelage forced him to keep it secret. Even King Laufey was not privy to the ways of the guardians of their sacred faith.

 

More secret kisses were shared in the garden between the Aesir and his Jotun, yet those were too few for either. Thor had improved his flower making skills, and even had, to a degree, lost control of it. Whenever he was with Loki, he simply couldn't help it when a flower popped up in his hands, and once, it appeared, already tucked behind Loki’s ear. The Jotun had taken to weaving together crowns of the unique flowers, choosing alike colors. During his day outings with the Crown Prince, he took to wearing the shimmering crowns instead of his circlets, pleasing Thor to no end. So taken with his blossom, Thor began to ponder what the future could hold for them. He never said a word about it, but as of late he had found himself lost in daydreams, in which he would act out the perfect proposal to the Jotun.

 

For his part, Loki still flushed purple when the Aesir complimented him. He was getting acclimated to Asgard and her people and culture. They were a race of warriors, with lively music and dancing, and marvelous story telling. After finding himself entirely bewildered by his first ball, Loki had begged Thor oh so prettily to teach him the Asgardian ways of dancing. His lessons were conducted in the private space of his suite’s antechamber, with the big man holding him close, humming softly into his ear as they swayed. Besides that, Thor was an excellent teacher, and soon they were everyone's favorite couple to watch on the dancefloor. Loki rarely had other partners, for the Crown Prince had laid a claim as being the ambassador’s main partner. Volstagg had once twirled around with the Jotun, causing musical laughter to come from Loki as they danced. It was hard to not get swept up in the magic of watching him dance, with the natural musicality he possessed, turning his head this way and that, how his skirts flared out and swiftly settled around his legs again.

 

They had even gone on a hunting excursion, Thor and his friends taking the ambassador for a three day trip. The last night they shared songs and poems. Loki’s poem, translated from his Jotun tongue, was one Fandral had adopted in order to woo women in the court:

 

_A beauty from the north_

_A masterpiece of the earth_

_With her first glance_

_Cities fall_

_With her second glance_

_Empires collapse_

_Never has there been_

_A city nor empire_

_So cherished like this_

_A beauty from the north_

 

Thor had discovered Loki could sing, quite beautifully. With how quiet he was in the Aesir’s presence, he hadn't expected it. In their tent, which Fandral had said only they would share (due to them being royalty, _of course_ ), Loki had sung soft lullabies to the Crown Prince, their hands connected between their bedding rolls. With the gentle stroking of a cold thumb on the back of his hand, Thor had been lulled to sleep, with Loki’s blessing, a hushed prayer.

 

 _“_ Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby _.”_ Loki had said, trailing off into song.

 

_Back to the years of loo-li, lai-lay_

_And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow_

_Bless you with love for the road that you go_

 

_May you sail fair to the far fields of fortune_

_With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet_

_And may you need never to banish misfortune_

_May you find kindness in all that you meet_

 

_May the ancestors be there to watch over you_

_To guide you each step of the way_

_To guard you and keep you safe from all harm_

_Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay_

 

_May you bring love and may you bring happiness_

_Be loved in return to the end of your days_

_Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you_

_I'll just sit for a while and sing_

_Loo-li, lai-lay_

 

Daily, their hearts grew for each other. Loki listened to the tales of Thor’s childhood from Frigga, learning of the blond’s love of snakes and how Heimdall had said there would be a babe born of sun and gold to the Allmother. The Warriors Three told of the day Thor was gifted Mjölnir, how proud they'd been to see their comrade, their brother in arms come into the title of Crown Prince with strength and honor. The Aesir himself shared most of his deepest thoughts with Loki, all but how much he loved him, not wanting to have to burden his blossom with the weight of his passions.

 

The topic of Asgard nearly demolishing Jotunheim was one Loki gracefully skirted, intending to avoid any embarrassment to the Allfather or perceived ill-will, and to focus on the peaceful and prosperous relations the realms had built. Loki showed a large gathering of nobles his lute, which had strings made from enchanted ice, producing a beautiful twinkling in addition to the familiar twangs lutes had. He had also shown the dancing that was in style in the royal court in Jotunheim, having had exhibited it with another ambassador who hailed from Alfheim, one of the few beings who had visited Jotunheim.

 

Thor had looked on in wonder, and felt jealousy creep  into his heart as he watched the way they swayed, connected at the hips, and how the elf’s hand had stayed on the back of Loki’s neck to guide him in a tipped back stretch of the utmost grace. It was a beautiful dance, one he had asked Loki to teach him, and they practiced alongside the other nobles. The Aesir felt guilty, suddenly no longer graceful as he stepped on Loki’s toes a few times, to which the Jotun showed his white teeth in laughter. Soon, they had a rhythm which was no longer awkward and Thor found he enjoyed this dancing, but strictly kept Loki to himself, not caring the nobles only had a visual guide as Loki seduced them all with his fluid motions.

 

Young children in the city surrounding the palace loved meeting with Loki, who had no problem making small snow flurries for the small things to shriek about in. More and more in the halls, one could hear the traditional Jotun greetings being said to the ambassador.

 

One evening, Loki and Thor were strolling in the gardens as they had made their habit, keeping to the private sections for royalty and close friends only.

 

“Thor, I am so happy to be here. I've been accepted and welcomed so gracefully.” Loki commented, leaning his pretty head on the Aesir’s large shoulder. “I love my home, but Asgard.... she feels like a home to me too.”

 

“She can be your home forever, Loki. There will always be a place for you here.” Thor said, turning to face Loki, amazed by how the moon turned his eyes into a brilliant magenta. With a devilish smile, Loki spun away just as soon as Thor tipped his chin up to kiss him, moving out of reach. Starting with the basic tapping steps of the dancing from his home, Loki began to sway his hips, dancing to the music his jewelry made, enticing Thor to come close, with the way he pulled close then pushed away. With a deep voice, he began to sing softly in his native tongue to his Aesir. Thor smiled, and joined him, taking him in his arms, a bent knee going between Loki’s thighs, their lower halves swaying in time to the rhythm of Loki's song as they pushed and pulled, the stars of their exclusive dance showcase in the garden.

* * *

 

The bi-frost closed behind them as soon as Thor and Loki stepped out into the frosty, biting winds of Jotunheim. Before them, the bridge to Utgard sparkled, snow drifting over it. Thor pulled his thick furs closer to him, then saw Loki had undone his customary draped shawl, as it fluttered behind him, baring his chest to the cold. The effect the icy temperatures had on the Jotun’s skin caused Thor to see the raised lines deepen in color, or perhaps the smooth expanse of Loki was turning brighter. Either way, he positively glowed.

 

“Shall we go?” Loki asked, snowflakes catching in his eyelashes. Thor nodded and they walked to the palace Loki called home.

* * *

 

Inside was beautiful. Thor had always assumed ice was jagged, but after meeting Loki, he knew it had the potential to be beautiful, and inside the palatial stronghold was no exception. The Prince was clearly small, most of his subjects were at least double his size, many outsizing him in the quadruples, Thor observed as they weaved through to the dias. Sitting upon a huge throne, Laufey was talking to Helblindi and Býleistr.

 

“Father.” Loki called, his voice ringing crystal clear. The royal Jotuns turned and looked, joy spreading across their faces as their youngest had returned.

 

“Brother!” Helblindi cried, swooping up his precious sibling in his arms, cradling him as he had not for many decades. “I knew not a few months could make me miss thee so.”

 

Thor watched as Loki was passed around his family like a newborn babe, cradled as well in Býleistr’s arms before standing on Laufey’s knee, his arms barely reaching around his father’s neck in a tight embrace.

 

“This is the Crown Prince Thor, son of Odin of Asgard, father.” Loki said, gracefully jumping down from his father’s lap.

 

“A pleasure to meet you, Aesir.” Laufey said, then gently chided Loki. “My jewel, why have you not placed a warming spell on him?”  

 

“ _And give him an ear for Jotun, snowflake._ ” Býleistr suggested, his voice rumbling.

 

Loki flushed, and muttered a quick succession of words, Thor finding his body warming to a comfortable temperature, and the chattering of the frost giants around him slowly became understandable.

 

“Don't forget his tongue, little one.” Helblindi added. Loki nodded, and Thor felt his tongue swell and then settle back down in a second.

 

“Speak to us, Odinjarson.” Laufey demanded.

 

“Forgive me, your most illustrious Majesty. For all his Highness’ effort, your tongue is one I've been unable to master without the effects of magic. I hope you can pardon my ineptitude.” Thor said, with a low bow.

 

The family chuckled, Loki looking the most amused of all at hearing Thor's rumbling voice spilling his native tongue so prettily.

 

“Our realm has long been isolated. Our language developed for our own convenience. As you may have noticed, the standard speech the Aesir have spread is one we've adopted when the need is apparent.” Laufey replied, holding a hand out for Loki to hold onto, as he lifted his youngest back into his lap. “I see my jewel has brought you here for our Mourning Day.”

 

Thor replied yes, he had.

 

“A most somber occasion, very rarely witnessed by outsiders.” Laufey said solemnly, looking at Loki.

 

“It is an important part of our culture.” Loki explained, patting his father’s side. “Odinjarson will be the first Aesir to witness it, as a royal representative.”

 

Thor looked from the known faces of Loki’s brothers, and realised they hardly shared any features with Loki. He had to guess the smaller Jotun was a replica of his passed mother, Farbauti, and thus why Laufey and his sons doted on him with all the tenderness they did.

 

“It pleases us to have you here, Odinjarson.” Helblindi said. “Our little one is a treasure, not only because he is the last begot of our dear departed queen, wife, and mother, but because his mind is sharp, as is his tongue.”

 

“The next time you visit our realm, you must witness our little one engage in a political debate. His prowess will surely impress you.” Býleistr added in, and all the frost giants who overheard murmured agreements. Loki ducked his head into his father’s chest, hiding his embarrassment. Thor found it beyond adorable and was eager to hear more about the little giant from his brothers.

 

“My jewel, you should ready yourself for tonight.” Laufey said. “We will entertain your Crown Prince while you do so.”

 

Loki slipped down once more, then walked to Thor.

 

“I will be back.” He whispered in Thor's native tongue, and only did the Aesir realise then the Jotun had an accent and it took him by surprise. “They'd love to hear the time you drank Lord Thrym under the table.”

 

The Aesir had the modesty to blush at that- he wondered if it was Volstagg who had told his blossom of that semi-embarrassing conquest.

 

Loki would never tell him it was actually Hogun who had shared that.

* * *

 

When Loki arrived in the feasting hall, everyone was already seated with food and drink, yet the mood was somber. Býleistr had given Thor his seat on the dias, insisting the son of the mighty Odin should have a seat of honor, to witness the mourning day. The Aesir couldn't help his jaw hanging open when he saw his blossom enter the hall- in the smallest black loincloth he had ever seen. And with piercings- something he hadn't seen on the Jotun. A small stud on the side of his nose, along with a simple navel piercing, and both of his nipples were pierced with bars, the gold catching in the pale filtered light. His hair was unbound, just slicked back and hanging straight.  Thor had found out more recently that the Jotun’s hair was not wavy naturally, shocking him by entering the training field with pin straight hair, held back only by a leather band around his brow.

 

“By the norns...” Thor breathed, taken by the beauty he saw. Laufey gave him a look from the corner of his eye, but said nothing. Loki nodded up at the dias, and sat with his brothers, who were dressed similarly, with piercings in their ears, and gold braided into their hair, on steps that lined the great hall, having to use the assistance of Helblindi’s extended hand to climb up. There was chatter, but it was in hushed, reverent voices. Thor barely spoke, and the Jotun King seemed to take no issue with that. It wasn't much different from the funerals the Aesir had attended before, but he knew this day was meant to encompass the loss Jotunheim had suffered in the war with Asgard.

 

“Odinjarson,” Laufey said, prompting the Aesir to look at him. “You are the first Aesir to witness this. Do not feel as if you cannot grieve. Let this be a reminder that old kings who do not listen are fools, and endanger their people for the sake of pride. Yes, that includes your father and myself.”

 

With sorrow, Laufey looked over his hall, draped in black crepe, the enchanted werelights giving an ominous feel. Had he never tried to extend his reach beyond his home, and had he never enticed Odin, this hall would be swirling with color, and his fair mate would not have died of a broken heart.

 

“Old, pitiful fool, I was.” He murmured, pain weighing on him like a thousand earths.

 

Thor looked at Laufey, and saw the sadness echoed. Even Loki, who was a young child when the war had begun and ended, much like Thor, seemed to share in the kingly grief.

 

A deep moaning vibrated through the room. Thor looked around, searching for the source. Then another joined. He realized it was rumbling from the chests of several Jotun, voices deep as they hummed. A few feet thumped the ground. Shivers went up his body- not from the cold, but from the feeling suddenly welling in his heart.

 

For several minutes, the humming continued, till a giant in the back of the hall opened his mouth- he was missing an eye and had several jagged scars on his face. He was massive, and must've been very old.

 

_Far over the misty mountains cold_

_To dungeons deep and caverns old_

_We must away ere break of day_

_Burdened glorious purpose we hold_

 

Drums, from where Thor knew not, joined in. Several more voices, in a wave of deep chorus, splashed over. Their song told of how they had intended to take over the nine realms, how they were going to make the universe anew. Females joined in, with harmonizing wailing. Several were silent, including Loki, with Thor realizing those who were not old enough to have joined in the conquest, held their tongues. As the song faded away, Thor saw the air shimmer, and felt within himself the need to join their marvelous plan, for they _could_ do it, and they _should_ do it. So lost in his thoughts, the vision the hymn had filled him with, he almost didn't register the voice that sprung out in the last departing deep echoes.

 

_O misty eye of the mountain below_

_Keep careful watch of my brother’s souls_

 

Loki was calling out, his lute resting in his hands.

 

_And if the sky should fill with fire and smoke_

_Keep watching over Jotun’s sons_

 

Then he began to strum on his lute, sadly looking on it. Thor felt his heart wrench, but knew he couldn't go to his blossom. His comforting touches would not be wanted, not on such a night as this. Tonight, Loki was _supposed_ to be sad, to cry and wail with his brethren. Laufey said the cries from Utgard would cascade all over the realm, and many a Jotun would turn the mourning day into a mourning week.

 

“For my people have lost more than I.” He had admitted, shame covering him like a cloud. His eyes were a much deeper shade of red than his youngest’s, almost brown so deep they were, reminding the Aesir of dried blood.

 

_For if my people fall, then surely I'll do the same_

 

It was the only thing the king sang the entire night, his grief punctuated with every word. Thor watched the royal family, seeing how Helblindi rubbed a scar on his massive forearm, and that Býleistr’s eyes had tears streaming from them.

 

_And if the night is burning, I will cover my eyes_

_For if the dark returns then my brothers will die_

 

Loki was the sole voice, his lute gone, his hands over his face, voice frantic. He was tearing at his hair.

 

_And as the sky is falling down_

_It crashed into this lonely realm_

_And with that shadow upon the ground_

_I hear my people screaming out!_

 

The little giant’s hands had moved to cover his ears, and Thor could see it so clearly, a younger Loki, huddled into a corner, trying to hide his face from the enchanted fires of destruction that raged outside the palace, covering his ears so he couldn't hear the screaming. Seeing the tears and that pain, those memories echoing in Loki’s face, Thor felt his heart rip apart, and he couldn't stop the sobs that ripped from him.

 

Watching his beloved sob and stamp his feet, and wail, Thor wanted to hold him, he wanted to comfort him, he wanted to make all the pain go away.

 

It was then that he made up his mind, wiping away tears from his face that he so desperately wished he could wipe from Loki’s.

* * *

 

They had returned to Asgard, but Loki needed to rest for a few days. He had sung almost the entire night, and had lost his voice as a result. Besides, the event was tiring in more ways than one. A few days of rest had the ambassador appearing from his room, dressed in emerald green, with gems to match. After a dinner, that was wildly festive (which Thor may or may not have insisted on to lift his blossom’s spirits), the two walked in the garden as usual. It was becoming _their_ spot, and even though it was the Allmother’s garden, all the court attendees now whispered of it in hushed whispers as the lover’s paradise, with the only lovers being the Crown Prince and the exotic ambassador.

 

“Loki, I didn't thank you properly for sharing that with me. For letting me be there.” He said, stopping them and pulling Loki into a tender embrace. The Jotun was used to his Crown Prince stopping them often, for hugs, for soft kisses, and more often than not, to just look at him.

 

When they separated for a moment, Loki closed his eyes, signaling for Thor to kiss him, which he did.

 

“Loki, I want to make sure that never ever happens again. I don't want Jotunheim to have cause for another mourning day to be added.” Thor whispered against his lips.

 

The Jotun nodded, agreeing silently.

 

“Oh, blossom-” Thor said wistfully, his heart aching, not realizing he had slipped his private pet name for Loki out.

 

“Blossom?”

 

The Aesir winced, as Loki pulled out of his embrace only slightly.

 

“Forgive me.” Thor begged. His mind raced and his palms became sweaty, and his heart was pounding. He _had_ to tell him, his beautiful blossom. “It's just.... when I'm with you, I feel like I'm viewing, holding, and breathing in the most exquisite flower. Loki, you are my blossom. My lovely, sweet blossom.”

 

He tilted Loki’s chin up, seeing his bottom lip quiver with unspoken questions.

 

“Loki, I love you.” He said, hoping to answer any question his beloved had. “I've loved you since the moment I saw you.”

 

The Jotun twisted his hands in Thor’s shirt, gripping it fiercely, trying to pull him close.

 

“Oh, Thor.” He sighed, his tears bubbling up. “Oh, I love you too, my heart.”

 

Thor lifted Loki, then set him on the nearby bench, kneeling before him. Fumbling for a moment, Thor pulled a slim box out from the folds of his cape. Breath caught in his throat, Loki could hardly believe his eyes when the Aesir opened the box. Inside, a slim gold band rested- it was his mother's. Refashioned with magic to be smaller, but still just as beautiful.

 

“Loki, my blossom.” Thor took the band out, resting it in his hand. “Will you accept a poor, besotted fool’s hand in marriage? Will you let me keep you safe, to love you, to hold you? Will you allow me the divine honor of being yours?”

 

The Jotun bit back a sob, nodding, a gasp falling from him as Thor slid the band over his foot and onto his ankle.

 

“Thor, oh Thor!” He cried, flying into his love’s arms, making them fall backwards. Lips locked in a passionate kiss, they rolled onto the grass. Loki couldn't help it- he was crying into the kisses, so overcome with joy.

 

“How did you-?” He couldn't finish his sentence when they finally parted for a moment.

 

“The few days you were resting, I went back to see your father, to ask for your hand. And then he told me of your customs, and that this band had been your mother's. Blossom, you never told me you were addressed as Loki Farbautijarson in your home.”

 

Loki shook his head, biting back tears again.

 

“No, I was never till you asked for my hand. My father has given me to you, but as my mother’s child. My brothers will never be blessed with her name- he has paid me and my mother the highest honor.”  

 

Thor held his fiance, and closed his eyes, taking in the scent of his beloved. His heart was so full, so very full.

 

Loki turned his head, and saw that a large sea of flowers had popped up all around them, the scent sweet and light as they all swayed in the wind.

 

“Thor, look.” He whispered. The blond opened his eyes and saw the flowers, knowing he had made them. They smelled like Loki, and shimmered silver. To Loki, they smelled like Thor, and were shining gold.

 

“They're for you.” Whispered his huge fiance, kissing Loki in the crook of his neck. “My sweet blossom.”

 

They laid there, Loki curled up in his arms, words lost between their kissing and sighing. A huge weight was lifted from both of their hearts, so happy to have confessed their feelings to each other.

 

Finally.

**Author's Note:**

> My heart is bursting for this story. Don't worry, there will be another part in a bit detailing marriage and what not. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope this love story lightened your heart ♡ 
> 
> Oh the poem is the translated lyrics from The Beauty From The North from House of Flying Daggers. Lullaby is called "sleepsong" by Secret Garden.
> 
> Small, small edit/sidenote: Loki basically taught Asgard bachata, in case you wanted a name to the visual.


End file.
